


Paint It Black

by Bluebellstar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, F/M, Friendship, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2020-12-21 03:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21068057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebellstar/pseuds/Bluebellstar
Summary: London, 2017. Polaris is England's best and brightest private security firm. But what secrets like behind the carefully polished veneer of respectable businessman Sirius Black? When investigative journalist Raven Lovegood teams up with Rita Skeeter to unearth Sirius' past, secrets long buried will come reluctantly into the light. What really happened to the Marauders?Afghanistan, 2009+. The Marauders are the best elite SAS team in the Royal Army. Their identities carefully kept secret. Their next mission will be their deadliest. Who exactly are the Death Eaters, what are they planning, and what will Brigadier Dumbledore's top secret taskforce have to do to defeat them once and for all?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Ben Barnes (AKA everyone's Sirius Black) in the Punisher, this is basically an AU of what if the Marauders were an elite SAS team? This won't actually be anything like the Punisher, but I couldn't resist it when the plot bunny sprang up.
> 
> Usual fancast applies. Otherwise use your own discretion.

Chapter 1

Polaris. England's best and brightest private security firm. A daunting and awe-inspiring sight. With black marble flooring in the lobby, stainless steel and just the right tint to the glass, the whole building was a tribute to the power and hard work of its founder. A bear-sized black dog was carved out of onyx in the middle of the lobby, the symbol of the company. A cheerful ding broke the almost reverent silence of the atrium, bronze elevator doors sliding open. Chatter busily filled the room as a breathtaking, aristocratically handsome man in a impeccably tailored black three-piece Burberry suit and platinum Rolex stepped out, black hair short but impeccable, grey eyes sharp as he scanned the lobby. Respectful nods greeted his progress through the lobby, the man not stopping as he strode to the doors. "Sir!" A pretty brunette woman held up her hand from reception. "Your three o'clock for tomorrow cancelled, so we moved the American HS meeting to then, and we cleared your schedule for tonight."  
"Thank you, Ms MacDonald" he replied, turning and giving her a slight smile - and making half the women in the room swoon. He walked over, hands finding his overcoat pockets. "Take the evening off, Mary. You've worked hard enough for one day."  
"Thank you, Sir" Mary murmured, looking down quickly. "There's been a reporter around asking questions, nobody said anything, and be careful driving out there, it's getting a little crisp."  
"I drove a Humvee in Helmand Province, Mary, I can handle a little ice" he said calmly, his eyes showing his understanding. You couldn't work in private security without a few secret codes. The woman he assumed was the journalist (a blonde in a charcoal skirt suit) stepped in front of him as he walked towards the doors.  
"Major Black?" His handsome face turned impassive at the slight Welsh accent.  
"Not anymore" he said bluntly, mentally counting how many security guards he was going to have to fire. "And you are?"  
"Raven Lovegood, investigative journalist for the Quibbler blog."  
"Good for you" Black smirked, the expression very useful in irritating anyone he didn't want to be stuck with. "Now, if you will excuse me, I'm late for dinner with an insanely beautiful woman, and I've already used up my apology quota for the month."  
"It's about Afghanistan" the blonde journalist interrupted, blue eyes glittering with triumph.  
"In that case, I really don't have time" Black glared, a chink in his composure that he would later regret. "Good day." He stepped around her, making it less than a foot from the doors before she pulled out her Ace.  
"So, the names James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew mean nothing to you?" The names echoed around the pin-drop silent lobby with the reverberation of a hundred IEDs. He paused in his stride just long enough that the journalist could see her words had hit their mark, then hurried to the waiting black Aston Martin in front of his building. Five years; it had been five years since he'd last heard those names together. Five years and not a day went by that he didn't miss them and live with the regret. If only things had been different. If only he had seen. They were supposed to be the best of the best, Special Projects and Mobility, they were trained to do and see and know what nobody else could, but he never saw that coming. And it was his fault.

Camp Bastion, Helmand Province, Afghanistan, 2009

Sand flew up from the wheels of a Humvee transport, creating a massive cloud as the tan vehicle slammed to a sudden stop, Dire Straits' Brothers In Arms playing from their field radio. The only occupants of the transport were four men in desert combat fatigues bearing the carefully hidden insignia of the Special Air Service. The driver grinned widely, removing his helmet to reveal a head full of messy jet black hair. He wore the rank of Captain, and the bold name of Potter was printed on his fatigues. His front seat passenger jumped out agilely, breathtakingly handsome even under the dust and grime of war. He bore lieutenants pips and the seemingly innocuous name of Black. His carefree smile could have rivalled the desert sun for brilliance, mischief glimmering in his grey eyes. "You two are lunatics!" The amusedly annoyed yet professorial voice belonged to a sandy haired second lieutenant with exasperated pale green eyes. His name was Lupin, and there was something of the wolf about the way he grinned. The handsome lieutenant, Black, waved Lupin away with a smirk, the expression turning to a bark of laughter as the final member of the elite team fell out of the Humvee with a splat.  
"Excellent balance, Sergeant Pettigrew" Captain Potter rolled his hazel eyes. "You do remember that, as our resident demolitions expert, you actually are carrying explosives upon your person?"  
"Don't make Peter piss himself, James" Black drawled in a voice as elegant and aristocratically handsome as he was. "We don't want to have to explain another requisition to Colonel McGonagall." Lupin staggered back, clutching his chest dramatically.  
"Can my ears be deceiving me?" he mocked, eyes alive with glee. "Lieutenant Sirius Black, our resident daredevil laughing cavalier Casanova, displaying a self-preservation instinct?"  
"No." Sirius scoffed and looked at Lupin as if he were mental. "I would just rather not have Minnie change her mind about our well-deserved leave." The handsome man winked at a female NCO as she walked past. "You ladies might not understand this, but I miss girls. Girls, Remus, the species you turn into a mute fool around." He cast a mock distressed glance at James. "It's bad enough that our intrepid leader is betraying us all by planning to enter the ranks of halfwits in the state of unhappy matrimony."  
"Marriage is a wonderful institution" Remus informed the ladies man seriously, Peter gagging to approval from Sirius. They playfully bickered as they crossed the compound to their private barracks, an unspoken tension easing from them as Remus completed a clean bug sweep. James kicked back on his bunk, smirking as Sirius chucked gear in his locker at Remus' continued harping about the joys of marriage.  
"You know, Pads" James said to his best mate, Sirius grudgingly looking over at him. "Somewhere out there is the poor woman who is destined to tame your caddish Casanova heart and make you fall wildly in love with her." Peter cackled with laughter, Sirius giving James a look that spoke volumes on his disbelief.  
"And on that cold day in hell, Prongs, I'll probably just elope and save myself the teasing from you bastards." James tilted his head in the way that meant 'you will see', and grinned at the sight of their bags packed neatly by the door; they were shipping off home for a glorious month in the morning.

Later that evening, Sirius flipped idly through his latest motorcycle magazine (he had a Triumph back home), and kept a weather eye on the door. James had been summoned to a meeting with Colonel McGonagall and Brigadier Dumbledore some time earlier, and Sirius couldn't shake the unrest he felt. Peter was fixing an explosive device for one of the other units on base, muttering about monkeys as he sorted through wires. Remus, on the other hand, was keeping up with his role as their information analyst, folders of paper (Remus was old-school) open on his bed. Sirius glanced at his clunky army-issue watch, groaned to himself, and tossed his magazine on his bedside cabinet. James never took this long for a standard mission debrief. He slumped back onto his bed, arm thrown over his eyes, a little voice in his head screaming 'Danger, Will Robinson, danger'. A clunk sounded in the room, Sirius immediately identifying the sound as Peter setting his device aside. "Should we get some sleep?" Peter asked eventually, breaking the tense yet comfortable silence.  
"Without Prongs?" Sirius levered himself up onto one elbow. "Are you insane, Wormtail?" Peter shrugged sheepishly.  
"We have to wake up early to meet the transport home, it makes sense to get an early night." Remus' green eyes met Sirius' grey, the same thought passing through them.  
"I don't think we'll be meeting that transport, Pete" Remus said slowly. "James has been gone for three hours. This smells like another mission." The demolitions expert nodded sagely.  
"Overt or covert?"  
"They only brought James in" Sirius reminded them, running his hand through his impeccable black hair. "They don't want everyone to know. Ergo, they want the Marauders. Covert not overt."  
"When did the mutt get so wise?" James asked, smirking in the doorway. Sirius' grey eyes flicked up to James.  
"Around about the time I saved your scrawny arse for the ninth time." James threw his arms up into the air.  
"You're still going to blame me for Belgrade?"  
"Let me think about this" Sirius mocked the famous Thinker statue. "Yes!" James growled in frustration, dropping to the foot of his own bed.  
"How was I supposed to know that there was gonna be a ninja with a flamethrower?"  
"I don't know, Prongs" Sirius replied smugly. "It's your job to plan for every eventuality." Peter chuckled.  
"You did look pretty funny running about with your hair on fire, Padfoot."  
"That's Lieutenant Black, Sir, to you, Sergeant Pettigrew" Sirius glared, Peter wilting back into his seat.  
"Yes sir, Lieutenant Black, Sir" James gave an awful salute, and ate a mouthful of pillow. "That's assault on a senior officer!"  
"No" Sirius corrected with a shit-eating smirk. "That's hitting a berk."  
"Ah, I miss Berlin" James sighed nostalgically, messing up his hair in the unconscious way he had. It was his tell, and in this case Sirius knew it meant he was worried about something.  
"We're back on active duty?" Sirius' words might have been phrased as a question, but it was a statement through and through. James ruffled his hair further, his other hand adjusting his glasses.  
"Only if we want to be" James replied, his Captain tone colouring his words. James was a leader, and he only wanted what was best for his team, his childhood friends. "It's a Joint Strike Op. One more mission, upgraded to two months of leave." Conflict shone in James's hazel eyes. "Two months" he breathed out a laugh. "I could help Lily plan a proper wedding, tack on a honeymoon at the end of our next leave."  
"I could finally finish my literature course" Remus added, his love for books legendary.  
"We'd be home for Christmas" Peter smiled, obviously thinking of a rare Christmas with his mum - the only family he had left. Only Sirius didn't look thrilled about the extended leave.  
"Standard Marauder op?"  
"Afraid so" James agreed guiltily. "Pads, say the word and I'll say no. I know how long you've been-" Sirius cut him off with a tired smile.  
"So I'll miss this chance and stay in the army a little longer. No big deal." His forced smile said it was anything but. "I'm a bastard, but I'm not that kind of a bastard. Take the mission, I'm stubborn enough to make another chance." A proud if somewhat sad smile blossomed on James's face.  
"McGonagall wants us in her office at 0630. Mission parameters and relevant details will be disclosed then. Let's get some sleep. Tomorrow we're back in business."

London, 2017

Sirius shook himself out of his memories, his right hand punching the steering wheel of his ridiculously expensive car. A glimmer of gold caught his eye, reminding him he was late for dinner. He sent a text message (the cowards way out, but he wasn't feeling particularly brave at the moment) to cancel - he wasn't in any fit state to be company tonight. Not anymore. He couldn't go home, and he couldn't go back to work (the parasite could still be there), so there was only one place to go. Sirius drew a deep breath in through his nose, turning in the opposite direction from his mansion on Billionaires Row (sue him, it had the best security in London - and his firm ensured it), and away to a boxing club in Whitechapel.

Identical twins Fabian and Gideon Prewitt had been two of the best field medics and drill sergeants on base back in Afghanistan, but devoted their lives to helping returned vets and messed up kids find their place in the world. Gideon was marginally buffer and a little rougher than his twin brother, usually wearing rock band t-shirts and torn jeans (they'd bonded back in the 'Stan over their mutual hatred of Celestina Warbeck, and their rebellious teen phase of punk). Fabian, on the other hand, was gentle and kind, dressing suitably but professionally. It was Gideon, in a worn leather jacket, that saw him first. "You know that leaving a £200,000 sports car outside is pretty much begging for it to be knicked?" Gideon pushed off the wall, grinning at the younger man. "And, just FYI, walking in here looking like that," he gestured up and down with a hand. "Really doesn't help your image any, mate." His green eyes scanned Sirius quickly. "Also, you look like crap. What brings you to the Order looking like you've just walked out of a photoshoot?" Sirius heaved a sigh, starting to regret coming.  
"I don't really want to talk about it, Gid" Sirius said quietly. "I just came here to beat the crap out of something." Fabian slipped around the corner, smiling slightly at the sight of him.  
"Sirius!" Fabian shook his hand warmly. "What brings the Polaris magnate to our humble establishment?"  
"An Aston Martin DB11, Fab" Sirius drawled, mostly because it was expected of him.  
"He says he wants to beat the crap out of something and not talk about what's eating him" Gideon smirked, Sirius mentally putting Gideon at the top of his Beat The Crap Out Of list.  
"You have access to any gym and boxing club in the city, Sirius" Fabian said flatly. "If you didn't want to talk, you would've gone to one of them. So" he folded his arms. "What's wrong?" Sirius ignored him, tossed his overcoat, suit jacket and tie away, and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. He didn't even bother wrapping his hands, just started laying into the nearest punching bag.

When the pain reached a familiar discomfort level, he eased back, finding a rhythm that compensated for boxing in a tailored suit and handmade loafers. Gideon moved behind the bag, bracing it and watching Sirius with the same patient eyes as his brother. "I was leaving the office" Sirius began, landing a punch with each word. "Got ambushed by a parasite in my own lobby. Raven Lovegood, from the Quibbler blog. Never heard of her, but I'm running background as we speak."  
"What did she want?" Gideon growled, Fabian quietly watching it play out.  
"To talk about Afghanistan" Sirius snarled, releasing a vicious combo - he'd been the best at close quarter combat back in the day. That and infiltration.  
"What about Afghanistan?" Fabian's quiet voice pierced the anger in Sirius' head.  
"Didn't stay to find out. Bitch mentioned Them, asked if their names meant nothing to me." He laughed bitterly. "I was supposed to be having dinner tonight, now I'm not sure if I can even face going home."  
"Billionaires Row?" Gideon checked, earning a punch in the face when he didn't move fast enough. "Jesus Christ, Black! Give a bloke some warning."  
"You're just getting slow in your old age, Gid."  
"Piss off, Fabian" Gideon glared, rubbing his cheek. "I can definitely say that you're not getting soft, Major."  
"One tries, Sergeant Major" Sirius doffed an invisible cap, face quickly falling back into inscrutability. The twins shared a look, Gideon clapping Sirius on the shoulder and steering him to the door.  
"Follow us back to ours" the younger twin said. "We've still got that whiskey you sent us from your trip to Scotland."  
"We'll have a drink and remember the good old days" Fabian continued, the two a comedy double act just like their twin nephews Fred and George Weasley. Sirius didn't have a choice in the matter, especially not after Fabian wrangled the keys to his Aston Martin away from him.  
"I don't know why I even bother coming to see you two" Sirius grumbled, ignoring the vibrating of his phone. Fabian glanced at him and smirked.  
"Because we're brothers-in-arms. And because you don't want anybody else to know how much of an arsehole you really are."  
"Great pep-talk, thanks Fab" Sirius drawled sarcastically. Fabian shrugged unapologetically, pulling up outside an unobtrusive flat.  
"Do you want me to say that it's because you still can't work out how Gid and I figured out about your squad's little secret?"  
"James would call it our Furry Little Problem" Sirius smiled nostalgically. Gideon let out a roar of laughter.  
"God, I'd forgotten that" he shook his brown fringe out of his face. "Half the base was under the impression that your team mascot was a badly behaved rabbit."  
"I know" Sirius smirked mischievously. "James and I used to set Remus up with people who tried to give him advice. For an intelligence analyst, he was clueless."  
"What do you think Lovegood was after?" Fabian asked suddenly, Sirius giving him a look.  
"I was SAS, Fab, trained to resist every interrogation technique in the book - including your wildly transparent attempt." He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a headache coming on. Why could life never be simple? The answer came at him from out of the past; because life would never be fun that way, Pads. Merlin, he missed James. "Honestly" Sirius sighed, feeling older than his years. "I think she was doing research for the planned MoD/Homeland Security training Polaris is expanding into, and stumbled across a couple of redacted files." Fabian paled, horror filling his eyes.  
"You piece enough words together on those things-"  
"And you get Afghanistan, my team, the Order, and not entirely sanctioned but necessary missions." Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose. "There was a reason our names were never known officially; they were never supposed to be traced back to us."  
"And it all started when you should've gone on leave back in '09?" The still unbearably handsome man raised his whiskey glass in a bitter salute.  
"You're a perceptive man, Gideon Prewitt."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rickrolling the mess (sort of), the Order of the Phoenix emerges, and planning for the mission.
> 
> It's 2009 all the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your hits, you made me decide to carry on posting.
> 
> Here's chapter 2, I hope you like it.
> 
> If you recognize it, I don't own it.

Camp Bastion, Helmand Province, Afghanistan, 2009

Three pairs of boots flew at the head of Captain James Potter, as bleeping broke through the comfortable darkness. "0530" Sirius' voice growled, still husky from sleep. "You are a sadistic bastard, Prongs."  
"Why did you wake us up at the butt-crack of dawn?" Peter demanded, always testy in the mornings. "We're supposed to be on vacation!"  
"Actually, we signed on for another mission" Remus pointed out, sounding far too awake for the unconscionable hour. James pointed excitedly at Remus, who was forced to duck as two alarm clocks sailed through the air towards his head. Peter's clock missed and fell harmlessly to the ground, but Sirius' clock clocked Remus right on the chin. "I'm going to ignore that only because you're my superior officer, and that was a bloody good shot." A middle finger was presented to the Intelligence Analyst, the four getting their things together for the showers and then breakfast.

Twin men in combat fatigues grinned identically as the four men trooped into the mess tent with laden trays. Both had the same rank, and only the name Prewitt showing. "Last meals before going back home to selection and flavour?"  
"Piss off, Gideon" James requested, not even looking up from his tray. Peter yawned agreement, Sirius just pouring thick engine-grease coffee down his throat.  
"Remind me never to have a curry with him" Fabian muttered to his twin, Sirius displaying his middle finger for the second time that day.  
"That sadistic bastard got us put back on rotation" Sirius informed the twins, stabbing a finger at James.  
"You all agreed last night" James defended himself quickly, Sirius glaring at him.  
"It's 0542 in the fucking morning, James. Do I look like I care about agreement?"  
"Not really" James replied, grinning widely.  
"Why would you agree to no home time?" Gideon looked confused.  
"One more mission and we get two months back home" James informed them, keeping his voice low. "Another whole month for one mission. Seemed like a worthy trade-off."  
"And you'll do anything in the name of Queen and Country" Fabian teased, a little jealous. "I take it you're McGonagall's Top Secret 0630 briefing?"  
"Give the man a month home." Remus was sarcastic in the mornings. Peter laughed, earning glares from the rest of the mess. Sirius was occasionally prone to impaired judgement when he felt his friends were being unfairly treated. He glanced at James and smirked evilly. Before you could say That's really not a good idea, Sirius, he was up from the bench with James, both singing at the top of their voices.  
"Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl. With yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there" Sirius waggled his eyebrows in a wickedly suggestive manner. James rolled his eyes but took over.  
"She would merengue and do the chacha, and while she tried to be a star, Tony always tended bar." Sirius whirled around their table, revelling in the glares from the regular army grunts.  
"Across the crowded floor, they worked from eight til four" Peter yelled out, not the most natural of singers.  
"They were young and had each other, who could ask for more?" Sirius smirked, completely unashamed. "Come on, Remus. You know the words."  
"I hate you so much" Remus groaned, but allowed himself to be raised to his feet.  
"Yeah, yeah. Don't be a girl, Lupin" James teased. "All together now for the chorus. And that's an order everyone." Sirius' smirk grew; when James gave an order, it was followed to the letter.  
"At the copa, Copacabana" thirty voices yelled in sad sync. "The hottest spot North of Havana. At the Copa Copacabana, music and passion were always in fashion. At the copa, they fell in love." Remus saw his chance to turn the tables on Sirius, but forgot that the lieutenant had no sense of shame.  
"His name was Rico, he wore a diamond-"  
"Thank you" Sirius winked, before grinning at James. The four friends began singing even louder than before.  
"Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you. Never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye, never gonna tell a lie and hurt you!" A pointedly cleared throat stopped the four from continuing. Standing nearby was a severe looking female Colonel with steel grey hair and an almost feline grace.  
"Captain Potter, Lieutenant Black, Lieutenant Lupin, Sergeant Pettigrew. If you've finished rickrolling my mess, kindly join me in my office." The four men didn't think; they grabbed their coffees (a refill in Sirius' case, but nobody said no to him, not even McGonagall) and buns with bacon and marched out of the mess like the elite fighting unit they were.

James, Peter and Remus stood at perfect parade rest (excluding them holding their breakfasts), while Sirius lounged in the only guest chair, feet up on Colonel McGonagall's desk. "Relax, you three" McGonagall ordered in her Scottish accent. "Feet off my desk, Black." Sirius winked at her, but slowly complied. The worst kept secret on base was McGonagall's fondness for the members of the covert operations group. "I take it, you're all in agreement for the mission?"  
"That's why we Rickrolled the base mess, Colonel" James replied, kicking Sirius out of the chair. The handsome black haired man just perched on the edge of the desk, waiting patiently for the briefing to begin.  
"Last week, a recon team of commandos intercepted a stream of intelligence. It seems we have a new player in the drug game. They're called the Death Eaters."  
"Think Blackwater gone rogue" Colonel Alastor Moody, the most feared and respected man on base, stepped into the office. The dim light reflected grimly on the scars lining his weathered face. All four men snapped into impeccable salutes for the man who had personally trained them to SAS level.  
"So you need the Marauders to take down the Death Eaters?" Remus checked, not bothering with the formalities Moody hated. The scarred man laughed bitterly.  
"If only we just needed the Marauders. Dumbledore has given Colonel McGonagall and I the green light to create a special taskforce to deal with these traitors. It's named the Order of the Phoenix. The Marauders are officially a part of the team, but your anonymity will still be Paramount. We will be recruiting all four of you as an SAS team to the Order, and are looking for suggestions for members who compliment our ranks."  
"So our mission is recruitment?" Sirius was unimpressed.  
"Officially, the four of you are on recruitment duty" McGonagall replied crisply. "Unofficially, you're going to lead the introductory mission on their supply train. The Intel is being forwarded to your barracks. You have two weeks, gentlemen."  
"And we have two possible recruits already" James announced, grinning at his friends. "Sergeants Fabian and Gideon Prewitt. They're officially on leave, but they'll agree in a heartbeat." Moody grunted in agreement.  
"Good call. Send in your recommendations, we'll have the Order up and running by the time you're back from leave." The dismissal in his voice was evident, all four Marauders turning on their heels and marching out.

Sirius looked up from his intelligence reports, letters swimming in front of his eyes. They'd been at this since dawn, without so much as a break. James seemed to have given up on the unintelligible intelligence, and was working through a series of folders on possible Order recruits. Peter, on the other hand, was groaning into his hands, looking minutes away from a nervous breakdown. And even Remus looked appalled at the useless crap they'd been lumbered with. Sirius watched as James looked around at them all, pinning photos up on the board. Okay, so they were all old-school from time to time. "As I see it, we need people we can trust not to be swayed by money or power" James announced, pacing in front of the board. "That means we have three obvious recruits. The first is Corporal Caradoc Dearborn, Royal Marines. We've worked with him before. He can be a little by the book but he's loyal and Moody already likes him."  
"He's a pain in the arse, Prongs" Sirius spoke up. "The greaser sold us up the river for-"  
"Illegal drinking four years ago" Remus interrupted, rolling his eyes. "You outrank him now, and you are a Marauder."  
"Excellent point. Next mug?" James pointed to a photo of a dark haired, blue eyed man staring down a sniper rifle.  
"Sharpshooter Corporal Frank Longbottom. Frank's a good guy, and he's been wanting to get assigned with his best friend, our third candidate; Benjy Fenwick." With a flourish, James' pointer hit a photo of a strikingly handsome blonde man with bright blue eyes.  
"We do not need another pretty boy on the team!" Peter blushed beet red and coughed awkwardly.  
"Sergeant Fenwick isn't a pretty boy, he's a communications expert" James sighed, Sirius still working through the implications of 'another' pretty boy. "None of us are capable of getting the range or channels Benjy can."  
"Are any of them still on base?" Sirius wondered, his temples throbbing.  
"All three" James confirmed, eager to get started.  
"Fine" Sirius waved a hand. "Go, recruit them. I'm going to get some sleep. It's no use running through the Intel now - we'll only miss things."  
"Why do you get the sleep?" James pouted, but there was only amusement in his eyes.  
"Because I didn't wake us all up at 0530, Prongs. And I'm the close quarter combat specialist; even half asleep, I will still kick your arse."  
"Get some sleep then, guys" James ordered fondly. "I'll try not to wake you when I get back in." Sirius ignored any replies, faceplanting in his pillow and trying to find that blessed relief. Sleep.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" The familiar roar started off what could only be a bad day. A brass band and construction crew had moved into Sirius' head. Even the dull light of blacked out windows sent daggers into his brain. Nonetheless, he jumped to his feet (one never ignored Moody's yell), and fought back the instant nausea that the movement prompted. James, for some reason wearing Superman underpants, cast a concerned look at his best friend, but Sirius shook his head slightly. Peter was tangled up in his sheets, Moody standing over him while Remus struggled with his laughter. Moody scowled at them all, enjoying himself. "Get up, Pettigrew. Lupin, stop that, you look like you're kissing a lemon. Potter, I'm not even going to mention your delusions. Black, you look like crap."  
"Ate the mess hall food, Sir" Sirius drawled, forcing his voice not to sound too hoarse. Moody nodded in approval.  
"You reacted well, for the most part" Moody growled, leaning heavily on his cane. "I couldn't resist testing you again. Your three recruits are waiting for you in the Order HQ. Let 'em wait. I want them to stew a bit."  
"Sir" James agreed, saluting crisply. "We might have something to do before we can make it to the Order HQ. Unavoidable, really."  
"It's tragic" Sirius smirked, clearing his throat.  
"We do?" Peter asked sleepily, nodding frantically at James' significant look. "Oh yes, we do. Very important. Can't be delayed." Moody rolled his eyes and stomped out, Remus turning to the black haired Marauders with a frown.  
"Making them stew isn't really fair, Prongs."  
"But so enjoyable" Sirius replied, gathering up his things. "Come on. We've got time to waste." He strolled out of the barracks humming Uptown Girl under his breath just because.

An hour and forty five minutes later, the Marauders had showered, shaved, breakfasted and observed the time honoured tradition of wasting time. By that, Remus had dragged them all back to their barracks and made them go over the Intel again. Fortunately, Sirius had taken aspirin and no longer felt like death warmed over. Peter finished up on the phone to his mother, and Remus looked over to the black haired Marauders. "I think we've dallied long enough. It really isn't fair to the three of them to make them wait any longer."  
"You're being a girl again, Lupin" James grinned, but reluctantly got to his feet. "Oi! Black! You can't actually set fire to our intelligence. It's too much paperwork."  
"Thus my current pyrotechnic proclivity" Sirius smirked, winking at his technical commanding officer. "But, on we shall bravely venture! To the headquarters and the sad gits we got recruited."  
"You have such a wonderful way with words, Sirius" Remus remarked dryly.  
"Piss off."  
"Ah, there's the Sirius we know and love" James teased, laughing at the glare from his best friend. "Come on, you lot. Time to get back to work."  
"Sounds awfully tedious" Sirius quipped, already back in a good mood.

Marching down the compound, the four men were the objects of curious stares and grudging respect. Nobody officially knew that they were SAS, but it was a thing that everyone knew anyway. They just carried themselves with the pride and bearing of the elite. The Order Headquarters was a relatively unobtrusive building on the edge of the command area, guarded by two grim-faced privates. Music (the Beatles' Abbey Road album) played from within the building, James grinning at a unamused Sirius. The handsome lieutenant rolled his eyes and nodded at the privates, who immediately let them in. He glanced at James who nodded gleefully, Sirius strutting into the building. The infiltration expert slipped quietly in (that was more James' area), and stood just in the shadows behind the three recruits. "There's an officer in the room" Sirius called smoothly, eyes twinkling. A black haired, prominent-eared, sharp cheekboned young man in fatigues glanced over and snapped into a perfect salute. Frank and Benjy followed suit - looking alarmed to have been caught out. "Actually, there's four" Sirius continued, really enjoying this. "Tell me, Corporal Dearborn, what is your speciality?" Caradoc straightened even further, for once looking proud of his abilities.  
"Linguistics and surveillance, Sir."  
"Come a long way from snitching on your teammates then, Corporal." Sirius was rather proud of his conversational tone - he was told that it freaked people out. Dearborn's eyes widened in confusion.  
"Sir?"  
"I don't think he remembers, Old Chap" James called, leaning casually against the wall, Remus now by the table, and Peter by the door. Sirius nodded his head thoughtfully and covertly winked at James.  
"That won't do."  
"No it won't" James agreed wholeheartedly. Remus gave them one of his patented exasperated 'will you behave' looks, but wisely said nothing. "Who are we, Corporal?"  
"Sir?" Sirius rolled his eyes.  
"It's a simple question, Dearborn. Who are we?"  
"SAS Team Gryffindor, sir" Caradoc replied slowly.  
"Give the boy a chocolate fish" James muttered sarcastically.  
"Not one of mine" Remus grumbled, getting clapped heavily on the back. Sirius struggled to bite back a smirk.  
"And Team Gryffindor is?"  
"The second most successful and elite (sorry, Sirs) team operating under the Allied control, after the Marauders. They have more than a hundred missions to their name, almost all successful-"  
"And are comprised of four members" James interrupted swiftly. "Captain James Potter, that's me, Lieutenant Sirius Black, Second Lieutenant Remus Lupin, and Sergeant Peter Pettigrew." Caradoc paled but otherwise didn't comment, clearly now remembering what he had so unwisely done.  
"You blabbed about our youthful indiscretions to Minnie McGonagall and her Thin Lips of Doom." Caradoc swallowed but didn't speak, Sirius giving him his flattest and most unrelenting glare.  
"Lay off him, Sirius" James laughed eventually. "It was four years ago. And he won't do it again." The steel in his tone didn't go unnoticed, in fact Caradoc saluted and solemnly vowed that he could be trusted.  
"Excellent" Sirius smirked, kicking back in the first chair he came to. Benjy seemed to shake off their oddness first, looking from one of them to the other.  
"If you missed us so much, you could have just called" he teased, clapping Peter on the shoulder.  
"Recruiting us feels a little like stalking, if I'm honest" Frank added, all seven men promptly bursting into laughter.

James held court in the secure room, Sirius leaning casually at the back, watching the team they'd so far assembled. "So, what do you know so far?" Benjy glanced at Frank and Caradoc, getting nods from the two.  
"Colonel Moody came to see us last night. He said that there was a new player in the game. That some members of our Armed Forces went rogue and created a cell that is now involved with anything criminal they can get their hands on." The only blonde ran his hand through his hair. "Moody said that you were in charge of a small taskforce, the Order of the Phoenix, that was created to hunt down these people. And that you had asked for us."  
"He also said that you four would get to supervise Marauder missions and that we and any future members of the Order would - if we were very lucky - get to go out into the field with them" Frank added, looking quietly excited.  
"You know as much as we do, then" James announced, sharing a wary look with Sirius - keeping their secret was now going to be harder than ever. Sirius stepped forward, immediately gaining attention.  
"You all have your own specialties which will help us take down these bastards" he said calmly. "Caradoc, as you said, you're our linguist and surveillance expert. Benjy, communications and hacking. Frank, your sniper rifle will be our backup and probably a major player in our plans." James smiled gratefully (he found it useless telling people what they already knew) and continued.  
"As you already know, Peter is our demolitions expert, Remus specialises in intelligence and occasional brute force, I'm rather good at sneaking into places nobody should be able to get into-"  
"It's like he can go invisible" Peter smirked brightly. James ignored him completely, continuing with his portion of the briefing.  
"And Sirius is our expert at infiltration and close quarter combat." Sirius caught his nod and picked up the thread.  
"After they return from leave, Sergeants Fabian and Gideon Prewitt will be joining the Order, as field medic and drill sergeant respectively. Since we're going to be on leave when they return, they are to be welcomed with open arms and thoroughly shared information. Speaking of intelligence, I believe Lieutenant Lupin has some terribly important information to impart. So, I'll leave it in your capable hands, Remus."  
"Thank you, Sirius" Remus smiled, putting away the stacks of information he'd found on a nearby table. "We have had advance warning that the Marauders are going to attack the Death Eaters' supply train sometime in the next week. Now, being that they are all a bunch of cagey bastards, we don't know any more than that. However, Colonel Moody wants us to look through this lot" he dropped a fist on the first of several stacks of folders and drives "and find any relevant information that could help our boys giving them hell. Otherwise, they could walk into an ambush and die horribly."  
"That would be bad and make me unhappy" James agreed, idly cleaning his glasses. He cleared his throat and looked sternly at their new team. "We have our orders, let's get to it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> Thoughts?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Marauder Op. A warning to the Death Eaters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've done my best to be as accurate as I possibly can, but some things in the op and so on might be purely within the realm of fantasy. If anything is glaringly wrong please let me know. Otherwise enjoy.

Still in Camp Bastion, 2009

For the next six days, the Marauders achieved an average of two hours sleep. That was fairly normal when the Marauders were deep in Mission Planning Mode. After many late nights (which turned into even later nights for the planning Marauders), the Order found them the intelligence necessary to plan an attack on the small warehouse in the back of nowhere where the Death Eaters held some product - powdered product. On the day of the mission, the Marauders slept from dawn till dusk, and then spent an hour laying the false trail for their departure/arrival. The Marauders' departure was always seen by the camp, giving them a humanity beyond the legendary status they held. They were considered insanely brave, mostly because of their daring, nerves and chivalry, but also because they never went out in anything but seemingly civilian attire. It had started with the Marauders' first mission, an unauthorized op that was considered suicidal. They'd gone in without any ties to the army, blown up an installation and come back to double the workload and secrecy. Double the workload, doubled leave and the same hazard pay - gotta love the bureaucracy.

Peter activated the hidden panel behind their 'closet', revealing twenty feet of stone passage. "Willow Protocol active" Peter announced, grinning with exhilaration. James nodded, double-checking the blackout windows and locked door.  
"We know the plan, we know the routine" James said in his Captain voice. "Let's go let everyone see the Marauders roll out." Sirius rolled his eyes, shoving James into the passageway.  
"Get on with it, Prongs." They crept down the passage, and exited into the high security Marauders barracks. James keyed in a long code and bright lights lit up the room. There were four quadrants to the room, the north marked with a dog, the south with a stag, the east with a rat, and the west with a wolf. The animals corresponded with their codenames; Moony for Remus and the wolf, Wormtail for Peter and the rat, Padfoot for Sirius and the dog, and Prongs for James and the stag. Sirius walked over to his area, knowing the others were doing the same, and began the change from Lieutenant Sirius Black of SAS Team Gryffindor to Padfoot, equal leader of the Marauders. He hung his fatigues on their hook, and slowly pulled on his rare as dragons teeth body mold body armour - a sleeveless second skin made of pliable Kevlar. On top of this, he pulled on a black T-shirt and black jeans (knives concealed about his person), strapped on his handgun and various extra clips, a belt with more knives, mags and clips, and various grenades, flares and other necessary paraphernalia went elsewhere. More knives were strapped to his legs, and a black leather Kevlar reinforced jacket completed the ensemble. His face, he covered with a pair of black sunglasses (with night-vision and infrared functions), and a black bandana. Across from him, James was dressed in black cargo pants (such a boy scout) and a scarlet shirt, a brown leather jacket like Sirius' on over the top. He wore glasses like Sirius' (as did they all), and covered the rest of his face with a red bandana. An assault rifle was held in his arms, and Sirius knew that there were many other guns about his person. Peter wore a hunter green shirt, charcoal trousers and carried his bag of explosive tricks on his shoulder. There was one long knife on his calf (as a last resort), and fiddled with his orange bandana as he checked the mag on his assault rifle. Finally, Remus was decked out in black slacks (he said if he had to go out as a Marauder, he'd do so looking respectable) and a dark blue shirt, a shotgun on his back, and gas cannisters on his belt. He cracked his knuckles and pulled his silver bandana over his face. James saw this and grinned. "Ready to go?" Sirius held up a hand, there was something he had forgotten. Quick footsteps took him to the wall, where a set of keys hung innocuously. The others could take their Humvee, Padfoot rode a motorbike. "Now are we ready to go, Pads?" James teased, his smirk audible. Dressed like this, they were free; they obeyed no orders but their own, they had no rules but their own, they made made mischief and raised hell.  
"If Moony's got the music, Prongs, we're ready to go."  
"I've got the Marauders exit music" Remus said solemnly, pressing the song into their iPod. James's eyes crinkled with the opening notes of the Beatles' Revolution, the doors opening with that audio prompt. The song blasted through the quiet air of the compound, James leading them out into the night. Sirius saw McGonagall standing by the three remaining Order members, a solemn smile on her face. All four Marauders saluted her formally, James climbing into their Humvee with Remus and Peter, while Sirius straddled his motorbike. As John Lennon sang the words 'but when you talk about destruction', the Marauders pealed out of the Camp, leaving only the song and the smell of burning rubber behind.

Deeper into enemy territory they went, Sirius scouting ahead, watching out for any surveillance or traps of the kind that went boom. Fortunately, as Sirius was unreasonably attached to his face, there were no that went boom, and he signalled James to move up. Ten minutes later, they laid atop an incline, looking down at a heavily guarded warehouse. Remus clocked the increased guards and cursed under his breath, and Sirius had to hand it to him, they were some pretty good curses. And then he ruined it. "Frog humping bastards."  
"You're a strange little bunny, aren't you, Moony?" James asked, checking the mag on his assault rifle. Peter squinted over at them.  
"Prongs, situation going FUBAR." James nodded, acknowledging his point.  
"Okay. Old approach plan's out, new plan in." He looked at the warehouse and then his team. "Wormtail, since you're the only one who brought the sniper attachment for their rifle, you're going to provide cover when we need it. But don't worry, we still need you down there to blow this place sky high. Moony, you're going to take out the nearest perimeter guards and come back here to get Wormtail. Pads and I will take the guards on the door and go inside."  
"We'll clear outside then join you in?" Remus checked hopefully.  
"Precisely." Sirius scanned the warehouse under night vision.  
"Prongs, we've got two guys on the roof. Wormy will need to use his silencer or we're blown." Peter waved the silencer nozzle gleefully around near Sirius' face. "Get what is in your hand out of my face, before I break every bone in it" Sirius warned, tone deadly.  
"Sorry, Padfoot" Peter murmured sheepishly. "But you always say for me to plan for every eventuality."  
"Stop being such a suck-up" James grinned, his professionalism suddenly falling back over him like it always did. "Wormy, get your rifle together; Moony, Pads, get ready to move out." Sirius checked his equipment and rose to a crouch, ready to run down the incline to the warehouse and the firefight to come. A red bandana bobbed with a nod, the signal to go like a bat out of hell to go raise a little.

Bandanas tied securely on, they moved like shadows through the night, taking out opponents with a punch, kicks and broken necks. Silent and deadly, Remus fell back to meet up with Peter. Grey eyes met hazel in the moonlit dark, two bodies falling to the ground without so much as a sound. A conversation was held with glances and hand gestures - tear gas?- Too messy- silent and deadly?- you read my mind. They separated at a stair, James and his assault rifle staying on the bottom (more room for his rifle) and Sirius going up with his handgun drawn. An explosion from outside minutes later was the cue they had been waiting for to go in hot, bodies of hired guns falling before the combined might of the Marauders. Sirius cleared his level and came to a catwalk overlooking the main warehouse. Down on the floor, James and Remus battled through a small squadron of mercenaries, running out of bullets and room to weild their weapons of choice. "Wormtail, what's your location" Sirius hissed into his mic, praying he had finished setting the explosives for their escape.  
"Catwalk to your left, Padfoot" Peter replied quickly. "Ready to provide overwatch if you've got the itch to show these bastards why you're our CQ expert."  
"You read my mind, Wormy" James breathed, the sound heavy with exertion. "Get your arse down here, Pads, we need you."  
"As you wish" Sirius smirked, ducking into a roll as he took the fall in several stages. He sprang to his feet maybe a yard from James, knives in hand, and ready to have some fun. He didn't like killing, but he would rather do that than let his friends die or bear the burden themselves. Blood rapidly slicked the concrete floor, bodies falling as Sirius carved a trail of carnage towards his friends. He tossed a mag to Remus and gave his handgun to James, dual knives shining ruby with wet blood.  
"Wormtail, get down and meet us outside" James ordered, shooting a black-clad thug right between the eyes. "Bullseye" he added, grinning at Sirius. The other black haired man spun around, one knife driving through a man's knee while the other speared another under the chin. Remus bared his teeth in a wolfish grin, wielding his shotgun like a club. They never noticed their non-life threatening injuries until after they were done, which made it easier to face down upwards of thirty men in hand to hand(gun) combat. At a nod from James, Sirius grabbed the Merc he'd kneecapped by the collar, and tossed him to Remus to drag outside - they been ordered to leave one alive to tell the tale. As soon as Remus and Peter commed that they were clear, Sirius and James ran for the doors, the latter yelling for Peter to show them the fireworks.

Sirius felt the burn in his leg muscles as he pushed his speed to the limit, trying to out run the explosion. It didn't work. A blast of burning air slammed into the two men, sending them flying forwards and slamming them into the sand inches from the others. Remus' pale green eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked down at Sirius, the green orbs quickly covered with dark glasses. James groaned profanities into the sand, Peter snickering but helping him to his feet. James's hand reached down to pull Sirius to his feet, all four Marauders adjusting their bandanas to keep themselves from being identified. The lone surviving Death Eater hired mercenary tried to crawl away in the sand, a bloody trail extending for all of three feet. Sirius rolled his eyes, drawing a long knife and grinning at James and Peter keeping their assault rifles raised. Sirius stepped none too gently on the mercs ruined knee, briefly enjoying the howl of pain. Served him right for trying to a) kill him, and b) crawl away. Remus gave him a disappointed look, and crouched to stop the man from bleeding to death before he could pass on their message. James joined Remus down on the sand, hand under the mercs chin to force him to meet his gaze. "Hello" James said cheerfully, as if they were just meeting in the street back in London. "I know you understand English, so we'll just keep it simple. You work for some bad people. We don't like bad people who do bad things. Tonight's show was a display of that. We want you to tell the bad people you work for to stop doing bag things. If they stop, we stop. If not, we get to keep blowing shit up. It's a win/win for us. Not for them. Either way they lose. I want you to tell them that. Okay?"  
"Why should I tell zem anything?" Sirius almost laughed at the terrible fake French accent. Honestly, he bet the bloke was from Bristol or Bournemouth or something. James rolled his eyes.  
"Because you're ex-military, and we are the Marauders. Messrs Moony-"  
"That's me" Remus popped in, waving his hand and deliberately tightening the bandage he was tying.  
"Wormtail" James continued, Peter looking up happily.  
"You called?"  
"Padfoot-" Sirius glared down coldly.  
"I'd shake your hand, but once you've had your hand in their knee, you're just beyond it" he sneered, Remus muttering under his breath.  
"And Prongs - which is me" James finished, his tone lined with steel. "You know what we're capable of. That is why you're going to pass on our message." The Merc opened his mouth, but James slammed his jaw shut. "Don't reply, just look frightened and nod." The merc nodded so quickly, Sirius hoped he got whiplash. "Excellent. Moony, tie him up somewhere he'll be found. Everyone else, back to the vehicles."

Dawn was turning the sky red by the time the Marauders finished cleaning themselves up. Remus bore a cut on his hairline and more bruises than cuts, Peter had only a long cut on his arm and a bloodied nose from a lucky hit. James had dislocated his left shoulder again but was otherwise unscathed, and Sirius had been covered in blood, but only a little was his own - from a graze to his right pectoral and matching slice to his forearm. Turning up back at camp covered in blood was a little gruesome even for them, so they'd all agreed to find a well and tidy themselves up a bit. Now, they were clean, but exhausted and running on fumes. Sirius' bike was safely on the back of the Humvee, James dozing off while Sirius navigated the familiar terrain back to Camp Bastion. As the camp appeared on the horizon, Remus shook James gently awake, Peter already fiddling with their radio. "Marauders entrance ready on your command, Prongs" Peter announced, blinking blearily in the sunlight. A mute nod was agreement enough, the jazzy strains of Cole Porter's classic Let's Misbehave (one of the life mottos of the Marauders) blasting from the communications system. They had enough time to share tired, congratulatory grins before they covered themselves up again and drove into camp. Another successful mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In 2017, Sirius is suffering.
> 
> In 2009, the Marauders are on leave, and Sirius meets a girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating.
> 
> This is more of a fluffy chapter. Meeting the OC. If you're familiar with my other Marauder's story you'll know her already.
> 
> Please enjoy!

London, 2017

Fabian downed his glass of whiskey, cursing lowly under his breath. Gideon just whistled and clapped slowly. Sirius' voice was hoarse both from talking and the pain of remembering, but it had been oddly cathartic too. Just to remember how they had been, how brilliant a team they were, how unbreakable their friendship had been. "I knew you were a bunch of mad bastards, but did you really have to water down your reports so much?" Gideon complained, a sparkle in his green eyes. "I would've won more money in the pool." Sirius tiredly flipped him off, getting to his feet with a yawn. Fabian followed suit, looking in concern at his old friend. Always the medic, Fabian.  
"You're welcome to stay. We've got room."  
"Thank you, but we both know that's not a good idea" Sirius smiled faintly. "I have a home to go to and no reason not to." He looked at his watch. "And I'm late enough as it is."  
"Good luck" Gideon wished teasingly, wincing while his twin suddenly looked too innocent. Sirius laughed, the bark of his army days, and picked up his keys. One glass of whiskey and water, and he could still drive. Besides, he had talked himself out of worse scrapes with the law; though that was a story for another time.

The engine of the black Aston Martin cut off with a low purr, secure in the garage of his upgraded Belgravia home. It was late, after witching hour late, but Sirius didn't feel guilty. Sometimes he just needed to stay out awhile; it didn't matter how late he got in, just as long as he did. He tossed his keys in the bowl, walked the perimeter of the house, checking that everything was as it should be (it was), set the alarm again, and climbed the stairs to the third floor. He glanced into a couple of rooms, just in case, and eased open the door to the master suite. On silent feet, he crept into the bathroom, changing out of his suit (it would need dry-cleaning) and into black pyjama pants and a fading Royal Army tee-shirt. "You look like hell." The soft voice was as gentle as it ever had been, beautiful but sad too.  
"One of those days" Sirius said, not turning around. "Mary called?"  
"No" his would-be dinner companion shook her head. "She didn't need to. I know you, Sirius Black. And I miss them too." The simple, heartbroken statement broke him, and he fell to his knees, pain overflowing from his heart.  
"I'm sorry." Sirius repeated it over and over again, as he had many times in the past. She slid to the floor next to him both holding and being held. He breathed in a smell like a garden and camomile, and was lost in the past again.

London, 2009

Setting foot back on English soil was always a strange experience. Being a civilian again, free from rules and regulations was easy to get used to, but strange nonetheless. The four Marauders parted ways at the train station, promising to meet up again in a week or two. Peter left in his usual clumsy haste, eager to catch his connection and see his mother again. Remus walked with them a while, grinning suddenly at the sight of his clean but small flat and the books contained within. He left to good-natured teasing about not snogging his books too much, James just starting to vibrate in anticipation. Sirius hailed a cab (James was singularly useless at that) and rolled his eyes. "Get out of here, Potter" he smirked, knowing exactly where James was so eager to get to. "Say hi to Lil for me."  
"Will do, mate" James beamed, waving until the cab took him out of Sirius' sight. Only then did his smile fall, and a sigh escape his lips.  
"Alone again, naturally." Another cab stopped in front of him, Sirius giving his address tiredly, ready for twenty four hours of blissful slumber. He'd worry about how to spend two months worth of leave later.

The buzz of an alarm clock was silenced by the piercing steel of a knife, Sirius strolling out of his bathroom without even looking to see if he'd hit his mark. It had been eight months since he'd last been 'home', but there wasn't a home really waiting for him. All he had was his friends, this flat, and a blood family that he really didn't ever want to see again. A year ago, his first instinct would've been to hit the pubs or clubs for some no strings attached fun, but (despite what his reputation said and friends, bar James, thought) that kind of life just didn't feel right anymore. He crossed to his wardrobe and pulled out a somewhat presentable pair of jeans, old black Queen shirt and his trusty non-Kevlar leather jacket. Sirius might not have much at the moment, but he still had his bike. Famous last words.

"The dirt bike I was forced to ride last month in Afghanistan was more reliable than you, you piece of shit! And that broke down in the middle of a bloody firefight!" Sirius swore, kicking the wheel even though it wouldn't do any good. "Just work, you sodding bastard!" He started to go through his more colourful range of swear words, a couple he was sure James had repeated from the SAS/Force Delta argument that time in Baghdad.  
"Is there a reason you're swearing at that bike in the middle of the street?" Sirius spun around at the amused, ever so slightly well educated male voice. The speaker was a passably handsome man in his early fifties, with brown hair streaked lightly with grey, and warm hazel eyes that seemed to laugh at his predicament. He wore mechanical coveralls and a warm smile that seemed like it was naturally a part of him.  
"Yes, there is" Sirius replied with dignity. "I've been away for eight months, back for three days. All I wanted to do was have a nice ride, and my bike clapped out after ten minutes."  
"Afghanistan?"  
"Army, Camp Bastion, Helmand Province" Sirius agreed, instincts telling him that this man was safe. He nodded and looked unsurprised.  
"Royal Marines, Falklands." He held out his hand, somewhat streaked with engine oil. "Jim Evans."  
"Sirius Black." They shook firmly, Jim smiling at the sight of his bike.  
"Is that a-?"  
"1959 Triumph 650 T 120 Bonneville, modified for more speed?" Sirius grinned proudly, eyes gleaming. "Yes, it is. Bought it when I was sixteen."  
"I think we can fix her" Jim announced, nodding over to a garage he'd missed during his raging. Sirius smiled gratefully, Jim helping him wheel his bike into the shop. He left with the promise that Jim would take care of his bike, and that he'd be back the day after tomorrow to collect it.

Hands in his pockets, aimlessly wandering the once familiar streets of London, Sirius felt almost nostalgic for the carefree days of youth. There was no war to fight, no blood on his hands, nothing but the future ahead of him and his friends by his side. They'd joined the army at eighteen and seven years later, here he was; a SAS Lieutenant, and alone in London. It sounded rather pathetic when he looked at it like that - it was a good thing that he was never one for introspection; that was Remus' gig. His feet found their way to one of the entrances to Hyde Park, the site of many youthful indiscretions - including underage drinking and smoking. A smirk spread across his face as he remembered their hiding place in the rose gardens, pelting Snivelly with crap as the Greaseball walked past. Those were the days. "I see you're still incapable of keeping your word, Malfoy." A quiet female voice came from within the shrubbery, Sirius' army training hearing anger and worry underneath it.  
"I said that I would come alone, not that others wouldn't follow me afterwards" the smug silken voice of Lucius Malfoy sneered, sounding older but no less arrogant than he had been when Sirius knew him. Whatever this was about, Sirius would bet that it wasn't going to be pleasant.  
"You didn't really think that we were going to make this easy on you, did you?" Another male voice, slightly younger but more confident, sent Sirius into motion. Fury demanded swift punishment, but he forced his control over it, centering himself before he joined the woman.  
"Sorry I'm late, dear" Sirius announced, moving in to stand next to the woman   
"What took you so long?" Her gentle voice was slightly strained with fear and relief.  
"My bike broke down" Sirius told her honestly, revelling in the clear laughter that rang out.  
"Piss off, Sirius, this doesn't involve you" the second male voice spat, Sirius levelling a glare at the brown eyed young man that shared good-looks a little like his own. He sighed, feeling sad.  
"What mess have you gotten yourself into now, Reggie?"  
"Justice, Sirius" Regulus replied calmly. "The bitch helped get my friend, Mulciber-"  
"The scumbag got himself court-martialled for being stupid and criminal enough to assault a woman while on leave" Sirius raised an eyebrow, his anger clear to see. "And he's your friend? You can really pick 'em, Reg." One of the goons flanking Malfoy stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. Sirius moved the now silent woman behind him, smirking at the six men in front of him. "Do you really want to try this?" Goon #1 apparently had no sense of self-preservation, and came at him with a raised fist. Rolling his eyes, Sirius sidestepped and put his fist into the guys knee, a loud crack echoing around the garden. He screamed and was sent flying back to his friends. Sirius grimaced in mock apology. "Since I'm such a nice guy, Lucius, I'll give you two options. Either you go now and leave this delightful young woman alone, and I mean that you all stay away from her and her friends. Or, you can stay and I'll show you exactly what the country pays me for." He let steel into his gaze. "And after that, while you're being rolled into ambulances, the police will be poking around your lives. Lucius, I daresay you'll be disbarred for your bribery and corruption. Nott, Goyle, I'm sure you'll be forced to leave the bank. Reggie, there's nothing I'd like more than to see the entire family sent down for blackmail, assault, and maybe even Jack the Ripper if I can wrangle it."  
"You wouldn't dare" Goyle rumbled, never the brightest bulb in the box. Sirius cast a look at his younger brother.  
"Reggie?"  
"He's the kind of bastard that would shoot just to see the fireworks" Regulus gritted out, face like thunder. "He'd do it all, and more."  
"This isn't over" Malfoy promised darkly.  
"Oh but it is" Sirius corrected, affecting casual nonchalance. "Deployment or no, if you break this agreement, I will find out. And I will ruin you."  
"Yeah?" Nott piped up. "You and whose army?" Sirius rolled his eyes; hadn't they been over this?  
"Her Majesty, the Queen's." The men slipped off, leaving only Regulus in the garden with them.  
"You always have to be the hero, don't you Sirius?" Regulus asked bitterly. "Doing the right thing, leaving home, joining the army, poking your nose in here where it doesn't belong."  
"You had the same chances and choices I had, Reg. You just made the wrong ones. As your brother, I belong right here, stopping you from doing anything stupid."  
"Stupid is a matter of perspective."  
"Don't quote me, Reggie" Sirius growled, glaring at the little shit.  
"Because I can never do the things that you do, Sirius" Regulus sneered, the Black Family Special.  
"Because you can never do them the way that I can" Sirius snapped, Regulus making an aborted move before turning and stalking away.  
"I don't know if I should thank you or apologise" the woman announced, startling Sirius who had forgotten that she was even still there.  
"Do neither" he offered, finally turning to see the woman he'd stumbled upon. His most charming grin froze and became more genuine. A beautiful woman with pale skin, wavy dark red hair and the most entrancing pair of violet eyes he had ever seen stood in front of him, smiling slightly, like she didn't know whether or not to believe him. "My family and I are no longer on the same page. In fact, we haven't been for the last ten years. Really, I should be thanking you for giving me a chance to bust their balls a bit." He sobered and shook his head. "I'm sorry your friend got attacked by Mulciber. He always was a slimy git."  
"Mary didn't want to press charges" the redhead murmured, looking guilty. Her hands picked at the cuff of her red plaid shirt. "But, we forced her to. It wasn't right. I'm sorry you had to serve with him."  
"I never did" Sirius corrected gently. "We were too good to serve with him. Too good at our jobs, and too stupid to try and milk that for all it was worth. Mulciber had no such scruples. Fortunately, the army is well shot of him."  
"And thanks to you, so are we." Her smile lit up her beautiful eyes, making Sirius briefly (and probably stupidly) wonder if he'd just met an angel in person. "I'm Rose, by the way, Rose Evans."  
"Sirius Black" he grinned, kissing her hand. "I think I met your father while I was swearing at my bike."  
"You would've made Dad's day then" Rose smiled, taking the arm he didn't realise he'd held out.

They strolled around the park, sharing stories from their childhoods, and making up stories for the people who passed them by. As Rose waved a hand, explaining exactly why her eldest sister was such a shrew, all Sirius saw was the life in her eyes, the warmth of her soul, and knew that he was in trouble. Luckily, trouble was what he lived for, even if it would prove James right. "Come with me" Sirius interrupted, smiling at the grin he received in reply. Rose took his hand and matched his pace, darting through a market and collapsing in laughter in a quiet little cafe he'd never usually set foot in.  
"I think you've gotten lost, Mr Black" Rose teased, eyes twinkling at him.  
"I should think not, Miss Evans" he replied primly, striding to the counter to order two hot chocolates and extra marshmallows. She squawked in mock offense as he swiped a line of froth on her cheek, and forced him to put his hands up to deflect the marshmallows she pelted at him. "Okay, enough! Truce!" Her eyes sparkled with the victory, but not a word of gloating passed her lips.  
"Tell me about your friends?" And for the first time in his life, Sirius opened up to a woman that wasn't James's mother or related to him. Rose listened and asked questions where she wanted to (usually clarifying details like Peter's cheese obsession not Remus' chocoholism, or James's appalling lack of ability to hail cabs but his actual driving talent), and when she sensed that Sirius didn't want to say anymore, she started telling him about the Girls and the antics her friend Marlene often got up to with men. Sirius was enjoying himself, but it felt like there was something he was missing.

Rose sat down in front of him, keeping the table between them. She had a serious look on her face, and worried her bottom lip with her teeth. They had had a terribly unromantic pub dinner at The Leaky Cauldron (a pub the Marauders had often gone to), Tom feigning horror at the sight of Sirius without the others. He had kept the conversation light, enjoying a meal in public without talk of patrols, insurgents or IEDs. But now, that light mood seemed to fly out into the cold December air. Rose looked at him like she couldn't figure him out, like there was something he wasn't telling her. "My sister Lily tells me I have the worst taste in men in history" she announced, Sirius just raising an eyebrow slightly. He was glad she took it as a sign to continue. "I always seemed to pick wrong ones. So, I swore off men. But, there's you, and you're handsome and charming and funny and a cliched Knight in shining armour. So now I'm wondering-"  
"What's wrong with me?" Sirius completed, laughing in what he would forever deny was relief. This, at least, was an easy question to answer. "I'm a very recent former cad, serving in the army in Afghanistan, and the only woman I considered a relationship with couldn't handle my relationship with my friends." He shrugged at the slow smile and shake of her head. "Besides the horrible taste in men, what's wrong with you, Rosebud?" Rose blushed at the name, smiling in the way he'd learnt meant she was pleased.  
"Honestly? I'm clingy where I feel safe, I'm a twin; my sister is prettier than I am-"  
"Not from where I'm sitting." Rose's blush returned brighter than before, but she allowed him to entwine their fingers.  
"Oh, and my friends are kind of nuts and tend to drive off the normal blokes around." Sirius' bark of laughter brought a smile to her face, tacit understanding passing between them. This, whatever it was, could very well be real, and they only had a short while together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In 2009, Rose escapes a bridal fitting and meets the Marauders.
> 
> In 2017, Sirius holds a press conference, then has dinner with his wife's friends.

London, 2017

A new day dawned, carrying the same problems as yesterday, but with a solution Sirius had forgotten. Nothing he had to do was alone. Fabian and Gideon had shown him that, and he was even more forcibly reminded of that fact by his lovely wife. Last night had reminded him how much he still had, how much he loved her, how much he had let fall by the wayside. He was Sirius Orion Black, head and founder of Polaris, husband, former Major in the SAS, and not easily intimated by the secrets in his past or pretty Welsh journalists that didn't know what they were asking. He rose a little earlier than usual, crossing to his walk-in closet with a spring in his step. Loving eyes watched his every move, red hair still cascaded across the pillows. "Which suit today, Rosebud?" She looked over at him, violet eyes blearily focusing.  
"Depends. What have you got scheduled?"  
"The final meeting with the Ministry and Homeland Security" Sirius replied, buttoning up a white shirt.  
"You want to look good but still professional. The black three piece" Rose called, still sprawled upon the bed. "The one with the tiny silver stripes." He smiled and kissed her lips before going in search of the suit.  
"I don't suppose you can come? I will need a witness."  
"Marley has us all busy with the project" Rose signed unhappily. "You know what she's like. Impossible to please so close to a deadline. I don't blame her, but it is still irritating. We're all equal partners in this."  
"Yes, well, Dora is joining you today, isn't she?" Rose nodded and got out of bed.  
"Just what we need; your clumsy teenaged cousin." Sirius caught his wife by the waist, pressing light kisses down her neck. "Siri." He pulled back, eyes twinkling.  
"Don't let her break anything, and please don't tell her any stories" Sirius pleaded. "And I solemnly swear I will be at dinner."  
"You'd better be" Rose warned, narrowing her eyes. "Otherwise, I'll send your brother in after you." Sirius shuddered dramatically.  
"Cruel and unusual punishment, Rosebud." She narrowed her eyes at him playfully.  
"All's fair in love and war."  
"I love you, but I will not war with you" Sirius promised, stealing another kiss before his day had to start. She giggled and kissed his cheek.  
"You are such a sap."  
"Only for you." Rose rolled her eyes, but straightened his tie and smoothed down his lapels.  
"Go sign some contracts. And don't forget; dinner at the Four Founders, at seven."  
"I'm not going to forget, Rosebud."  
"Good, because the Girls are coming too." Sirius started shaking his head profusely.  
"Oh no, no. When did I agree to that?" His wife smirked mischievously.  
"You didn't, Siri. I agreed to it for you. Perks of marriage."  
"Oh God, the Girls." He felt the urge to groan coming on.  
"They're not that bad, Siri."  
"Even you can't stand them, sometimes, love." Rose wrinkled her nose.  
"Those were mitigating circumstances, Sirius Black."  
________________________

London, 2009

Rose pried open the window of the bridal shop bathroom, dropping down to the alley with a smile. Arguing could clearly be heard from inside, and Rose was in no mood to stay and join in. What was it about weddings that turned even the most normal of women totally crazy? One moment they'd been discussing the right shade of green for the bridesmaids dresses, and the next it was like the Wild West. The rumble of a motorbike came from the entrance of the alley, right on time. "Someone call for an extraction?" Rose laughed out loud and ran to the Triumph motorbike and its handsome owner.  
"You're a sanity saver" she breathed, feeling a bit breathless from the bright grin he shot her.  
"I should put that in my job description, Colonel Minnie could use a good laugh."  
"What, she wouldn't accept me as a character witness?"  
"Not after seven years, Rosebud" Sirius smirked. "I'm afraid that she knows us of old. And let's us handle guns anyway."  
"I'm still amazed that you were single for so long" Rose teased, laughing as he pulled her up on the bike behind him.  
"Ah, but no longer, my darling Rosebud" Sirius winked, handing her a spare helmet.  
"Were you busy?" Rose asked suddenly, feeling guilty.  
"Just trying to stop my mad mates from doing a 'whose specialty was best helped by their degree' thing" Sirius shrugged carelessly. His voice was easily heard over the wind.  
"Who won?" Rose asked, jumping off the bike at Sirius' nod. They stood outside an unremarkable flat in Tottenham Court Road.  
"Probably Pete" Sirius chuckled, shaking his hair out. It still looked immaculate. "Engineering somehow helps blowing things up."  
"I don't blow things up, Sirius!" Rose jumped at the voice coming from an open window. "I'm a demolitions and explosive ordinance expert."  
"You blow shit up, Pete, deal with it."  
"What do you know, James?" Peter's voice snapped. "I still won."  
"Debatable" James smirked, Sirius rolling his eyes at them.  
"Great first impression, geniuses" another, exasperated, more Professorial voice said, his eyes audibly rolling.   
"Oh, fudge" James groaned, clearly censoring his language. "Sirius has company." The black haired man coughed and seemed to realise where they were. He turned to her and kept his voice to a murmur.  
"Er, right. It seems we have a choice, Rosebud. Either you could come up and meet the berks I grew up with and serve with, or we can make a run for it and I'll come back and kill them later." Rose grinned and made a show of mulling it over.  
"Well, I'd hate to be the reason you were forced to kill your friends-"  
"Don't worry about it. He's got plenty of reasons without that" Professorial voice yelled, Sirius shaking his head in amusement.  
"Oh, piss off, Rem!"  
"Language, Lieutenant Sir" the same voice smirked, Sirius wearing the fondly annoyed look common to being teased by old friends.  
"Would you excuse me, my dear Rosebud, while I go brutally murder my irritating friend?"  
"I want to meet that man" Rose laughed, noise suddenly coming from behind the window. Sirius mouthed the word 'cleaning', his grey eyes rolling. He held the door open for her, Rose ducking under his arm and stepping inside.  
_______________________

Sirius stopped her outside a door painted black. His hand was on the doorknob, eyes darting between the door and hers. "I really must apologise for my friends in advance. They're a bunch of tossers who seem to forget that I can and will kick their arses."  
"Don't listen to the mutt" James's teasing voice yelled. "We're spiffing gentlemen." Sirius groaned and looked as though he was reevaluating his whole life. The door wrenched free from Sirius' grasp, a sandy haired man standing in the doorway. His pale green eyes twinkled merrily from a lightly tanned face, warning her somehow that they were ready to keep Sirius safe if need be. For now, though, she seemed to have the benefit of the doubt.  
"Please forgive James, this is his idea of making a good impression. How he got engaged is beyond me." His arms folded in front of a sky blue jumper, the Professorial voice light with playful ribbing. "I'm Remus Lupin."  
"Second Lieutenant, know-it-all, bookworm, soon-to-be doctor of literature" Rose recalled, Remus' eyes widening in surprise. "It's lovely to finally meet you. I'm Rose Evans."  
"Sirius says we both agree that Labyrinth is a severely unappreciated movie" Remus smiled, opening the door.  
"Of course, David Bowie's in it."  
"What have I done?" Sirius mourned, staggering dramatically.  
"There, there" Rose grinned, patting his arm gently. "Tell me, Remus, is he always that dramatic?"  
"You should've seen him when *ahem* somebody dyed his hair bright pink" Remus said, Sirius jumping in suddenly.  
"And that's enough of that" he announced, hiding a smile in his eyes. A hand on the small of her back guided her over to a shortish man with blue eyes and straw coloured hair. He seemed to be rewiring an alarm clock.  
"Sirius Black kills clocks" the man announced, Rose recognising the voice as Peter's.  
"The clock had it coming" Sirius shrugged easily. "Chirping like that in the mornings."  
"You threw a knife at it!"  
"I had one handy" was the only response Sirius had for that.  
"You always have one handy" Peter complained, tutting at the sight of some mechanism or other.  
"Not a morning person, Siri?" Rose asked fondly, their attention snapping back to her.  
"Not in England" Sirius conceded, Peter just opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. "Don't stare, Pete."  
"You're a bastard" Peter glared, holding his hand out professionally. "Sorry about that. I'm Peter Pettigrew. Unfortunately, the stories you've heard are probably true. I'm a bit useless really."  
"And I think my sister's far prettier than me" Rose said carelessly, getting the impression that Remus and Sirius were listening intently. "We often don't see what is true about ourselves. Just look at it this way; Sirius kills clocks, and you bring them back to life. That's hardly useless." Rose sat down on the couch beside him, eyes twinkling. "And, you're all braver than I am, I just ran away from a bridal fitting."  
"We'd all do that" Peter grinned, going back to his tinkering with a happy spring.  
"We'd rather face combat in Afghanistan than sit through one of those" Remus agreed wholeheartedly.  
"Speaking of unhappy matrimony, where is James?" Sirius asked, looking around worriedly.  
"On the phone to the waiting ball and chain" Peter commented, Sirius wincing at him.  
"Rose Marianne Evans" James called from the doorway, Rose jumping up from her seat. Her mouth fell momentarily open, unable to believe it.  
"James Harold Fleamont Potter." Sirius smirked, looking oddly pleased with himself. "Siri, your best friend is the same James who's-"  
"Marrying your sister, yes" Sirius nodded, silence reigning in the room for all of ten seconds. Peter dropped the clock with a clang, Remus' eyes bugged out, and James started to dance.  
"I told you, mate" James crowed jubilantly. "I told you!"  
"Belgrade" Sirius smirked, James stopping his 'I was right' dance with a scowl.  
"I hate you." He tackled Sirius, the two playfully wresting.  
"This is normal" Peter squeaked, going back to his clock.  
"Belgrade?" Rose looked to Remus with a furrowed brow.  
"Hilarious, but unfortunately classified" Remus confided, his eyes scanning her swiftly. "Sirius is unbelievable. You're the Rose that Lily talks about. Her twin sister."  
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Rose asked him quietly, watching Sirius and James disappear into the next room.  
"The way Lily and James talk about you, good" Remus said slowly. "The way he talks about you, it wouldn't have even mattered. Just don't hurt him, I doubt you need us to explain why not." Rose didn't say it had only been two weeks, she just nodded. "Now that that's out of the way-"  
"Welcome to the family, Rosie" James grinned, pulling her into a hug. "Next time Malfoy or Reg bother you, all four of us are at your disposal." She kissed his cheek.  
"Thanks, Jamie."  
"Oh" he snapped his fingers as though just remembering something. "Lily's pissed you ran without her."  
"I wasn't getting in the middle of her and Marlene bickering" Rose held up her hands innocently.  
"Excellent point" James nodded sagely. "I wouldn't either."  
"That's because you're afraid of Marlene" Sirius smirked, leaning against the door in his shirtsleeves. James's head was thrown back in boyish laughter, Sirius' eyes twinkling at him. Rose finally understood what Lily had meant about James and his best friend; closer than brothers, more loyal than blood - two for the price of one. Luckily, Rose already liked James.  
"I don't suppose you have two more sisters lying around the place?" Peter asked innocently.  
"Petunia, two years older" Rose reported flatly. "Wouldn't wish her on my worst enemy."  
"We could arrange for her to 'accidentally' get shipped out" James offered, eyes gleaming behind his glasses. Sirius tilted his head, considering it. "Just don't tell Lily that it was my idea."  
"I don't think that Afghanistan has done anything to merit getting Petunia sent there" Rose replied regretfully. It was such a tempting thought. "Besides, if you sent Tuney there, then you'd be stuck in an active warzone with my shrewish sister."  
"Now that would just be a crying shame" Sirius sympathised, James high-fiving him behind Remus' back. The literature student looked disapproving, but he'd never been stuck in a room with the horse-faced shrew and her neverending criticism and argumentive nature. "The offer remains on the table, Rosebud" Sirius murmured. "Anytime you need me, I'll be just a call away. Even in the 'Stan."  
"I know, Siri" Rose smiled softly, leaning up to kiss him.  
"Seriously, you two?" Peter groaned, Sirius hearing and pulling her closer to him. Rose hummed happily, breaking away as Sirius did. James smirked at them, putting his phone away in his jeans.  
"P- James" Sirius took a step forward, only to be interrupted by the obnoxiously loud chorus of Here Comes The Sun.  
"Lily!" James shouted enthusiastically, bouncing on the spot. By the look on his face, Rose knew that Lily was talking a lot. "Yes dear. No dear. Do you think he'd tell me? No. Uh-huh, uh-uh. Yes, ma'am. Sirius'. Not far. Okay. Love you."  
"Now is a good time to do a runner" Rose announced, nodding towards the door. James physically blocked the door.  
"You shall not pass!"  
"I regret watching Lord of the Rings with you" Remus groaned, his head ironically buried in the opening book.  
"Sorry, Sirius, but I'm under orders here. You're not so much as allowed to think about leaving, else it's my nuts on the block."  
"Horrible mental image, mate" Sirius informed him, but dropped down onto the couch with a grin. "Call of Duty?"  
"I will beat the reigning master" James swore, cracking his knuckles. Remus scoffed, marking his page.  
"You have no hope." Peter got to work untangling the controllers, while Rose perched on a nearby chair.  
"So, whose degrees will help them win at this?"  
"Too much reading in literature" Remus announced, unhappily conceding defeat. "I just didn't have time."  
"Likewise with Foreign Politics" James added, cursing under his breath. "But I still played every now and then."  
"It's Sirius" Peter piped up, earning an approving look. "He had the most time on his hands."  
"Study what you know" Sirius grinned unrepentantly. "I'm good at business."  
"All you have to do is flirt with the Profs" Peter mocked, yelping at the head-slap that comment earned him. Rose just smiled, enjoying the friendship that the quartet effortlessly displayed. This was one that was going to stand the test of time.  
_______________________

London, 2017

Sirius blinked flash-spots out of his vision. Photo ops were a part of doing business with the government and foreign friendly governments, but his old SAS instincts rebelled at the thought of being splashed all over the papers again. Worse still was the part that followed; questions. The Ministry of Defence representative (Kingsley something or other) and the American Homeland Security officer (Sam Stein) stood back, Sirius was the one that everyone wanted to talk to. "Mr Black!"  
"Ms Skeeter" Sirius acknowledged, inwardly gritting his teeth.  
"This is a historic event, a historic cooperation" the older blonde woman spoke up. "But, why?"  
"Why?" Sirius repeated, eyes twinkling. "Why not? I served in Iraq and Afghanistan, Syria - worked with the best from the countries fighting on our side. American Marine Special Forces saved my life in Kandahar. My point, is that Homeland Security went to the Defence Ministry who came to Polaris. They believe that this can work, that cooperation and the best training we can provide will help with security. Any more questions?"  
"Is it true that you are personally taking charge of training the first group of recruits?" Sirius inclined his head, resisting the urge to adjust his waistcoat. It was a nervous thing.  
"Yes, so I've been told" he quipped, light laughter greeting his statement. "I'll have my team with me, as always. Training teams to be the best of the best takes a long time. Just ask my old mentor in the army." A reporter from the New York Times put his hand up. Sirius breathed a sigh of relief (he couldn't see that Lovegood woman in the sea of parasites) and nodded at him.  
"When will the joint training begin?" A smirk spread across Sirius' face.  
"Immediately. The recruits will include DHS, MoD and my own new recruits for Polaris. We're firm believers in encouraging cooperation."  
"And what does your wife think about all this?"  
"You'd have to ask her" Sirius replied automatically. "She has always supported Polaris one hundred percent; I would imagine that that remains true in this case."  
"You've avoided returning to Afghanistan although you send teams there. Why?" Sirius smiled wryly.  
"I should've known that you wouldn't stick to one tame question, Ms Skeeter" he said slowly. The beetle smiled smugly. She had been the worst war correspondent back during his army days. "I suppose" he broke off, thinking of the best way to put it. "I haven't avoided it, I've turned it down flat. The thought of going back there, where we did so much good and yet nearly lost everything - we went through hell and raised a little in return. Going back would bring back too many memories. It is the past and I'd rather focus on the future, with my company, my friends and family."  
"What direction is Polaris going in now?" Tension slipped gradually from his shoulders, this was a question he could answer.  
_____________________

The whiskey burned a calming trail down his throat, the glass clunking heavily as he put it back on the bar top. Sirius put his head in his hands, fingers peeking out from his short black strands. Rosmerta, the curvy and beautiful barmaid/owner of the establishment entered his field of vision. "Another?"  
"Sadly, I'm late for dinner" Sirius replied, only half as charming as usual. Her usually exasperated blue eyes softened with concern. "It's been one of those days, Rosmerta." He'd been stuck arranging logistics for the impending immediate training of the recruits, and then he'd narrowly avoided a bunch of parasites (paparazzi) outside his building. Seeing Raven Lovegood among them had increased his desire for a stiff drink, thus his presence at the Broomsticks.  
"You've had worse, Sirius Black" Rosmerta told him fondly, and she'd seen it too. He'd been coming to The Three Broomsticks for years, since before they got deployed to Afghanistan; Rosmerta had truly seen him through the worst days of his life. "Now, either order another drink or go to dinner. I'm not a waiting or living room."  
"You're far too beautiful to be one, Rosmerta my dear" Sirius told her flirtatiously. Her eyes rolled at the familiar behaviour.  
"Yeah, yeah, get out of here." He snapped to a deliberately awful salute, winking as he strolled back to the waiting cab. He gave the address and paid the exorbitant fare when they reached the exclusive London restaurant.  
_____________________

Mary, the only one of the Girls that he saw with alarming regularity (considering she was his PA), waved him over to the private table. The eight seater table was full (the seat intended for himself notwithstanding). At the far left was the supermodel beautiful Marlene McKinnon, blonde hair pulled up in an updo and midnight blue eyes watching him curiously. Next to her, the brown eyed brunette Dorcas Meadowes smiled warmly, her beauty coming from her kind soul and loving nature (although she was admittedly beautiful as well). Alice Longbottom, botanist, sat next to Dorcas, her light brown hair cut in a bob, cornflower eyes rolling at a comment from the pink cheeked woman opposite her. The pink cheeked woman was Hestia Jones, the only war correspondent he'd ever respected. Her black hair hung loose to her shoulders, engagement ring still twinkling on her finger - an emerald still a few shades lighter than her eyes. Beside her was the hazel eyed brunette Emmeline Vance. She waved a hand at him in greeting, nearly hitting the radiant redhead next to her. His darling Rosebud ducked away from Emmeline's waving hand, her radiant smile lighting up the whole restaurant. Sirius let himself relax at the sight of his wife, shoulders slumping minutely as he reached the table. "Hello, ladies" he smiled charmingly, kissing his wife gently in greeting.  
"Sirius Black, you charmer you" Marlene teased, eyes sparkling in what could only be described as manic glee.  
"Behave, Marls" Hestia waved her wine glass threateningly. "We couldn't get anything out of Tonks."  
"Ted was there?" Sirius asked, confusion sparking in his mind.  
"Ny hates her name" Rose clarified, Sirius inclining his head in understanding. There was a time he'd hated his bigoted parents for naming him Sirius; and that wasn't even remotely as bad as Nymphadora. "Your cousin also had some news, Siri." Horror welled up inside him, images each worse than the last.  
"She's not pregnant, is she?"  
"No, Sirius" Alice rolled her eyes. "Your nineteen year old cousin is not pregnant." Sirius let out a whole-hearted sigh of relief. Unfortunately, Marlene was a wicked witch who could never just let him enjoy his relief.  
"She's been selected as part of Kingsley Shacklebolt's team for the joint taskforce Polaris training." Sirius choked on his sip of wine. He had to be hearing things.  
"Beg your pardon?" Rose glared daggers at Marlene, but spoke with forced cheerfulness.  
"She, and Fab and Gid's eldest nephews (Bill and Charlie) are part of the MoD delegation - well, she and Charlie; are, Bill's apparently trying to become a part of Polaris itself and not bother with the Ministry."  
"Molly is going to kill me" Sirius groaned, trying not to imagine death by Molly Prewitt Weasley and Andromeda Black Tonks. He smirked despite himself. "Oh, goodbye cruel world."  
"Don't be so dramatic, Sirius" Hestia rolled her eyes, but sobered. "Rosie says you had a parasite scuttling about the place yesterday. Anything we need to keep an eye out about?"  
"The room's secure" Alice added helpfully. Sirius just gave her a look; as if his wife would go halves in a restaurant that wasn't.  
"Reporter from the Quibbler blog, Raven Lovegood, think she's Welsh" Sirius said quickly, falling into Briefing Mode. "Near as we can figure, she must've stumbled across some redacted files, put two and two together. We think she smelled a story, and that story's about the Order."  
"Well, shit" Dorcas said succinctly, Marlene's eyebrows furrowing into a thoughtful V shape.  
"What is it, McKinnon?" Sirius asked, not in the mood to wait for her to elaborate. "You know something?"  
"We were introduced, once" Marlene admitted, shooting him a guilty look. "Four years ago, at Alice's baby shower." Sirius nodded tightly, there was no need to dig up old wounds tonight.  
"So" Mary began in a wildly transparent but very much appreciated attempt to change the topic. "Have you decided where you're going to send the recruits?" A slow, almost dangerous smirk spread across Sirius' face.  
"Oh, I know exactly where I'm sending them."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long delay in updates. I'm afraid I lost my confidence in this a bit. I just want to reiterate that this is very much AU and as such there is no particular realism in the portrayal of the armed forces.
> 
> Hopefully a long chapter will make you inclined to forgive my liberties.
> 
> That said please enjoy.

Dawn filtered murkily through low grey clouds, weak rays of sunlight piercing the cloud cover. The dim light illuminated a cluster of buildings very much like a small base, catching on the headlights of a small convoy of trucks rolling in near the Scottish border. A gunmetal grey helicopter flew overhead, a black dog painted on the doors; a Polaris stealth helicopter, the personal transport of the CEO. Crisp salutes and professional nods greeted him as he stepped out of the chopper, grey eyes eerily alike the dawn light. He gave quick, precise orders to his underlings, striding across the base to his building. In the main compound, fifty or so recruits piled out, groggy from the travel and the early hour. Standing briefly in the window of his Scottish office, Sirius allowed a smirk to cross his face; he'd missed the feel of a military operation. He freshened up in the bathroom, dressing covertly in jeans, a light olive sweater and a black jacket - ready to meet the recruits. A knock jolted him from his preparation, a handsome brown eyed man leaning on Sirius' desk. "They're ready when you are. Don't scare 'em too much, they still need to be able to do their jobs when you're finished with them."

"It's like you don't even know me." Sirius feigned hurt, clutching his chest dramatically. "Are you ready to whip them into shape?"

The younger man grinned wickedly, a carbon copy of his own wickedest grin. "Brother, it would be my genuine pleasure."

Low murmuring filled the main hall of the warehouse, the recruits clustered in three distinct groups of ranks. The Ministry of Defence recruits were to the left, dressed in distinctive dark green camo. To the far right were the American Homeland Security trainees, wearing dark blue tactical gear. Standing proud in the middle were the Polaris recruits, dressed in the black of the outfit, ready to join the ranks. Sirius envied them their futures ahead. With a nod from his number two, he stepped forward, only a handful of recruits (three that Sirius could see) recognising him. "Welcome to the Facility. The primary Polaris training centre" Sirius announced calmly, in his element now. "Where you are isn't important, what you've done so far isn't important - what is, is what you will learn here; teamwork, loyalty, tactics, battlefield training." Sirius paced in front of the ranks. "I served in the army. More than ten years of my life was devoted to fighting for peace and freedom. Now" he spread his arms grandly. "I own Polaris. But nothing I achieved was done on my own. In the army, I served with good men and women, many of whom I owe my life to. Polaris was gained through the help of my friends, and my family. I tell you this not to make you doubt my abilities (I'll prove those in due course) but to try to make you understand the most important lesson; without teamwork, _you will fail_." Sirius glanced at his watch. "I will now leave you in the capable hands of your instructor. Reg, I'll see the recruits on the training course in an hour. See what they've got until then." His brother's eyes twinkled, immediately barking out orders that would make army PT look like a walk in the park. Sirius chuckled wryly, facing his first Christmas with the Evans family had been something like living through one of Reggie's training sessions.

_________

London 2009

Low cursing and threats of bodily harm carried through the Tottenham flat. Sirius rolled his eyes, pen flying across the pages within a black leather folder. A loud growl and spectacular SAS worthy bout of cursing had the handsome man sighing and looking at the ceiling as if asking for patience. "Prongs, for the love of God, what is your bloody problem?"

"Nothing, I'm just bloody dandy, you prick" James's voice snapped sarcastically.

"Then stop swearing, mate" Sirius called cheerfully, eyes twinkling at the renewed barrage of curses. He sighed again and pushed himself to his feet, smoothing down the creases in his suit trousers. James was standing in front of the mirror, a Christmas red tie around his neck, and the most woebegone expression on his face. Out of uniform, the bloke was useless at ties. "Oh, we'll be here all night" he muttered, smirk widening at James's displayed middle finger. "Well, if you don't want my help, Prongs."

"Petunia already hates me, you can't let me turn up like this" James cried plaintively, eyes wide in pleading. And the man had the nerve to say Sirius did the puppy eyes.

"You've thrown yourself in the path of grenades, jumped off a roof into the Venice bloody canals, gone undercover with me in a Serbian hit squad, and yet you're afraid of Petunia Evans?" Sirius cocked an eyebrow in show of his disbelief.

"Don't sodding mock me, Pads" James glared, throwing his arms up.

"You're a captain in the SAS, James, grow a pair" Sirius snarked, fastening his tie in ten seconds.

"Sometimes, Sirius, just sometimes, I really bloody hate you. You're right, but I really bloody hate you." The Marauder winked smugly, searching around the flat for the keys to James's Royal blue Triumph Stag. The irony of the car was not lost on James's fellow Marauders. In fact, they often mocked him mercilessly for it.

"Come on, you useless berk, we'll make a worse impression if we're late to the bloody party."

"So much hate" James mumbled, shaking his head but following Sirius out to the car.

The Evans residence in Cokeworth was a modest two story detached house, with a garden and a small shed/garage that Sirius could practically smell the motorcycles in. James shot a longing glance back at the road and turned off the car engine. Roses and winter vegetables grew in sight of the road, spots of colour in an otherwise snow covered world. A wreath was placed precariously on the door, as if someone had given up trying to make it fit on there presentably. In short, Sirius loved the place, and he hadn't even set foot inside. James heaved a sigh and pulled himself out of the car, humming a Christmassy tune under his breath. The wreath wobbled dangerously as James knocked sharply upon the door. A beautiful, emerald eyed redhead pulled them in, relief etched into every one of her lovely features. Her red hair was pulled up in an elegant updo, diamonds sparkling at her ears, throat and ring finger. "Thank God you're here, James, Sirius. Petunia brought her new boyfriend, and they're driving me up the wall!"

"Yeah, because I'm not here at all, Lils" Rose deadpanned, drifting into the entranceway dressed in the most Christmassy red dress Sirius had even seen. It was the twin of Lily's festive green gown. Rose's beautiful violet eyes widened at the sight of him. She nodded at James, who was being towed into the living room by Lily. "Hello, Siri."

"Rosebud." He ducked into an elaborate bow, kissing her hand. Rose's bright laughter was music to his ears. "You look beautiful."

She gave him a disbelieving look. "I look like a reject from a bad holiday movie, but thank you anyway." A delicate hand brushed invisible lint from his suit. "You, on the other hand, look very dashing. Mum'll love that. Dad would ridicule you, but he's dressed up too. Tuney insisted." There was something in her voice that had Sirius frowning at her.

"What's the boyfriend like?"

"Vernon?" Rose didn't even bother to hide the distaste in her voice. "Imagine the most boring, offensively ordinary bloke you can, add in boring talk about being upper management in a company that makes drills, a truly spectacular walrus mustache and the fact he actually likes Tuney, and I think you get the memo."

"ROSE!"

"Last chance to do a runner?" Rose suggested hopefully. 

Sirius smiled apologetically and kissed her quickly, he couldn't help himself. "James drove."

"Bastard" Rose muttered, taking a deep breath. "Come on, time to meet the rest of my mad family. And Vernon."

"If all else fails, Sweetheart, remember I already like Lily and your father."

"Christmas miracles" Rose grinned, slowly leading him towards where James had disappeared.

Rose opened the door with a bright smile, Sirius was even sure it was genuine. He had that effect on her, mercifully. Brenda Lee's Christmas song was playing from the stereo at a volume barely worth putting the thing on for. James and Lily were standing in the far corner of the room, chatting with Jim. Rose's father looked uncomfortable, visibly resisting the urge to fiddle with the snowman patterned tie that adorned his suit. A little further away was a trio of people that Sirius had never met before. A rather portly man with a spectacular lip ferret (Rose hadn't been exaggerating) appeared to be regaling the two ladies with some thrilling tale, if his exuberant arm waving could be trusted. The younger of the two women was clearly Petunia Evans. Her horsey features looked at the plump man with adoration, her blonde hair was pulled up in a style Sirius was sure might have been popular in the roaring twenties, and she avidly hung off the man's every word. The other woman didn't look a day over forty, with almond shaped emerald eyes and hair an only slightly lighter shade of red than her twin daughters. Looking at her, Sirius could easily see Lily after a couple of decades of marriage to James. Rose glanced at the safe corner, but squeezed Sirius' hand and led him over to the other trio. "Mummy? Tuney? Vernon. Sorry to interrupt your thrilling conversation, but you wanted to meet my, er, Sirius." She cleared her throat, Sirius taking perverse pleasure in the way that Petunia's jaw dropped at the sight of him. "So, Sirius Black, meet my mum, Violet Evans, my older sister Petunia, and Tuney's boyfriend, Vernon Dursley."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs Evans, Petunia, I've heard lots of things about both of you. And looking at you both, I can see where Rosebud gets her good looks from." Not a bit of it was a lie, Sirius could see that she'd got them from her mother, and that gene had clearly skipped Petunia. Violet's cheeks pinked.

"Please, call me Violet." James caught his eye and laughingly shook his head, probably amused at Sirius' ability to charm anyone. Sirius smirked back, and then turned his attention to Vernon, offering him a firm handshake.

"What line are you in, Black?" Vernon asked pompously. "I'm one of the managers of Grunnings. We make drills."

"That sounds exciting" Sirius said politely, thanking God he specialised in essentially lying for his country. "I thought Rose told you all, though."

"Sirius serves in the Royal Army, he's stationed in Afghanistan in the same unit as James" Rose announced, pride bubbling in her voice. In her eyes, his job wasn't glorified but merely necessary, and she loved that he willingly did it without complaint or want of recognition. A slap on his back nearly sent him forward, but it didn't.

"Sirius is a lieutenant, and the bastard's our team's close quarter combat specialist" James grinned, Lily and Jim just behind him.

"Thank you, James" Sirius said through a false smile. James swallowed audibly, clearly regretting speaking; good. "But I must say, it's wonderful to be back home for Christmas." 

Jim looked curious. "You spent Christmas in Afghanistan?" Sirius shook his head. "Iraq." 

Vernon's nostrils flared in disapproval. "What were you doing this time last year then?" 

James and Sirius shared a look. When you worked for the SAS, there was only one answer you could give. "Classified."

___________

Classified Location, Iraq, 2008

SAS Team Gryffindor jumped out of a low flying cargo plane, exhilarated grins on their faces as the four man team drifted slowly to the sand. "The Marauders might not have to work missions on Christmas Eve night, but we bloody well have to" Captain James Potter had grumbled before takeoff, but he had been among the most eager in command for the mission. Being stuck in Iraq during the holidays was nobody's idea of fun, so they took what they could get. Lieutenant Sirius Black checked his assault rifle, idly aware of James, Second Lieutenant Remus Lupin, and Sergeant Peter Pettigrew doing the same nearby. Dressed head to toe in desert combat camouflage, guns drawn and weapons concealed about their persons, they were ready to go in. "On my mark" James murmured, his voice a comfortable volume in their ears. "Sirius, you're with me. Rem, Pete, head ten o'clock and deal with the hostiles in that building, then secure the Intel."

"Roger that, Captain" Peter chirped, sounding far too happy for someone about to enter a building full of insurgents with only one man for backup. Sirius approved wholeheartedly.

"Can we get a move on, James?" Sirius drawled, one hand reaching for his favourite knife. "We want the element of surprise, not Father Christmas turning up and ruining the whole thing."

"Your mind scares me" Remus offered, finishing his check of his equipment.

"Ta."

"That wasn't a compliment, Black" Remus muttered, but Sirius had never let a little thing like that stop him.

"When you're quite finished" James sighed, pretending to sound annoyed. Sirius knew that James enjoyed their bickering too much. "Move out."

In a touch of pure irony, Stevie Wonder's Someday At Christmas played in the background of their earpieces, James moving in with Sirius right beside him. Bullets ricocheted around them, embedding in walls and the kevlar of their vests. They raised their assault rifles and returned fire, moving through the first part of the building with military precision. Machine gun fire and grenade explosions echoed from Remus and Peter's end of the transmission, Sirius feeling oddly grateful that John Lennon's Happy Christmas (War Is Over) wasn't the song selected by the shuffle mechanism on James's iPod. Bottlenecked in behind some crates, Sirius and James exchanged fire with insurgents with AK-47's, the familiar pop pop of bullet fire an unseasonal soundtrack. With a growl of frustration at their lack of progress, Sirius tossed his helmet into the no man's land between them, James using the distraction to lob one of Peter's 'special' grenades at them. The resulting explosion rattled the building, crates toppling around like dominos. James grinned at him, dust on his face, and inserted another clip into his rifle. "Remind me to recommended Peter for a commendation" James muttered, hazel eyes briefly surveying the resultant chaos around them.

"Yeah, yeah" Sirius rolled his eyes, punching a man that snuck up on him. His wrist knife rammed up through the roof of the insurgents mouth; it was one of the touches of Padfoot that he allowed to follow him into the ordinary operations. Around another corner, they were faced with more AK-47 wielding nutters, forcing them to take cover on either side of the corridor. Sirius glanced across at James, the Captain having also lost his helmet at some point. "Clearly these people have never heard of peace on Earth and good will to all men." He paused for a second. "It's like being back in London with my deranged family."

"It's so grim here" Remus' voice filtered in with the background noise of rustling filing cabinets. "What I wouldn't give for a sprig of holly or some fairy lights."

"Ask Pete if he's got any festive explosives" James suggested, checking the clip on his rifle. "Cover me?"

"With that shoulder?" Sirius shook his head; he hadn't missed the way that James had been holding it. "You cover me. Close quarter combat is my speciality."

"Why do you get all the fun?" James complained, rolling his sore shoulder gingerly.

"Because you're the berk that decided to specialise in sneaking around, instead of something useful like me." 

James gave him his bitchiest look. "Do you want this cover fire?"

"Yes please, whenever you're ready, mate" Sirius shrugged, tossing James another clip and replacing the mag on his own rifle.

"One night only!" James yelled, distracting the hostiles while Sirius broke cover and ran for the other end of the corridor.

Two knives went airborne as Sirius ran, one embedding in a shoulder (the bastard moved) while the other sliced neatly through trachea and windpipe. The knife-shouldered bloke yelled out in one of the Arabic dialects, and more of the bastards poured in from seemingly nowhere. Sirius looked at his rifle, then at the insurgents and drew his knives. A challenge at long last; this was finally starting to look like Christmas. "Oh, Captain? Whenever you're free."

"Hold your sodding reindeer, Lieutenant" James called back. "We've got more down here too." Sirius tilted his head, neatly sidestepping; a bullet hit another insurgent instead of him. He started humming It's Starting To Look A Lot Like Christmas, putting his close quarter combat skills to use after so long stuck doing infiltration and extraction missions. A punch here, a kneecapping there, a dash of collapsed windpipe, and just a hint of brains on walls, and Sirius was feeling better about his chances. In between trading punches with someone with actual hand to hand training, Sirius activated his comms.

"You okay back there, James?"

"Having a ball, Sirius" James replied, sounding remarkably relaxed. "Looks like our diversion's working." A pause, then "Oh, would you just stand still and let me shoot you? There's a good man." Sirius refocused on his own fight as his next opponent tried to take him out using a roundhouse kick. It was insulting. Sirius grabbed the offending leg, and used the morons own momentum to spin him into the wall. Feeling a touch vindictive, Sirius put his full weight on the leg, both feeling and hearing it snap with a sickening crunch. Remus would not approve. But Remus wasn't there, so Sirius ignored the disapproving Moony-voice in his head.

"Intel secured" Remus yelled through the sound of a very loud explosion. "Status?"

"We'll rendezvous at the exfil point in ten" James said calmly, as if they weren't outnumbered. Sirius grunted acknowledgement, smirking at the last two insurgents in front of him. Ten seconds later, he wiped brain matter off his favourite knife, walking back down to help James and collect his knives along the way. A single man was left standing in the room with James, efficiently dispatched with a clean bullet between the eyes. James took in Sirius' appearance with nothing more than a slight widening of his eyes. "Saving ammunition again, were you?"

"The plan was diversion, not efficiency, James" Sirius replied evenly, both keeping their guards up as they made their way back to the extraction site.

Remus was tending to a wound on Peter's arm as the final two men approached. He looked rumpled but unharmed, and didn't so much as blink at the sight of James and Sirius. Sirius moved straight to the drivers side, getting the Humvee started, while James checked on Remus and Peter. "You got the intelligence?"

"Took a while, but we found it" Remus shrugged, patting his chest. "We'll make Colonel McGonagall's Christmas."

"I think we ruined a couple of people's" Peter opined, not even sounding remotely apologetic. "But you should've seen that explosion. It was beautiful." The Humvee jolted as it ran over a brick or ten, Peter squeaking in surprise.

"Any of that blood your own?" Remus sighed, gesturing to the mess they were covered in.

"James copped a bullet to the shoulder" Sirius announced, still too high on adrenaline to know about himself. "But, at least we've passed another classified Christmas Eve. It's midnight. Merry Christmas, gentlemen."

"Merry Christmas."

__________

Evans Residence, Cokeworth, London, 2009

"Classified" Jim repeated, tone suggesting they'd just confirmed something for him. James caught his eye and shook his head, wordlessly telling Sirius not to press it. In a stroke of conversational wizardry that Sirius was grudgingly in awe of, Vernon managed to hijack the conversation back to drills. Twenty minutes of Vernon Dursley talking about fucking drills was enough to convince Sirius that there could possibly be one form of torture Mad Moody's SAS training couldn't prepare him for. Even James looked like he was losing the will to live. Violet and Lily had escaped to the kitchen five minutes ago under the excuse of checking on the meal. His darling Rosebud had watched them enviously but had stayed in the Most Boring Onesided Conversation Ever. Her entrancing eyes were glazing over with every passing second, while Petunia only looked more adoring. James shot him a pleading look, Sirius replying with a hard glare he hoped effectively communicated that they were SAS, they were literally trained to resist torture. This couldn't really be any worse than three days under Chinese water torture. Still, Lily's return was the second best thing he'd seen all night, after Rose of course.

"Dinner's ready." James leapt to his feet like a bespectacled jack-in-the-box, nearly colliding with the door in his haste to leave the room. Jim shook his head at James's antics, Sirius offering an apologetic smile.

"We think he was dropped a lot as a child."

"Piss off, Black!"

"That confirms it" Rose grinned, jumping to her feet with the excitement a child. Sirius rose more gracefully, but that didn't really matter with the way Rose dragged him out of the living room. Jim's warm laughter followed them into the dining room, Lily chiding James for being so obvious.

"We have to make Vernon feel welcome, that includes listening to his stories."

"Easy for you to say, you left! Even Rosie stayed." James crossed his arms and pouted like a naughty child told it couldn't have any sweeties.

"You're willingly going to marry into this mess, you get treated like an honorary Evans" Lily sniffed, waving her ring in his face. "Sirius, on the other hand, hasn't yet been subjected to our brand of bonkers, so he gets backup. Problem?"

"Have I told you that I love it when your eyes flash? It makes them look like real emeralds." Sirius mimed gagging at the besotted look on his best friend's face. Rose started giggling, unsuccessfully trying to muffle the sound by covering her mouth.

Dinner was an experience. The food was all delicious, but Vernon and Petunia dominated the conversation. There was only so many backhanded compliments and insults to Lily and Rose that the on-leave SAS officers could take without starting to plan murders down to the smallest detail. "Rather be in Helmand?" Rose murmured, something almost like resignation in her eyes. Both she and Lily had told him how bad Petunia could be, but he hadn't wanted to believe she could be this vile.

"Not with you beside me, Rosebud" Sirius replied honestly. "I've had worse Christmas Eve's, believe me."

"I'd rather have Afghanistan than Vernon and Petunia" Rose said quietly, trying not to be overheard by the couple in question, now laying into the laziness of students.

"Yes, but I'd be in Afghanistan in that scenario, wouldn't I?" Sirius countered. "And I wouldn't want you within a million miles of that warzone. Not even with James and the team to watch your back."

"Is it too late to take you up on your previous offer?" Rose asked instead of commenting on his overprotectiveness.

"Never, if you're serious."

"I can't be serious, you're Sirius" Rose grinned, promptly looking mortified at the bad pun. "Oh God." Sirius threw back his head with a loud bark of laughter.

"You've spent too much time with Remus if you're embarrassed about that one, Rosebud" Sirius offered, still chuckling. James had an eyebrow raised, curiosity radiating from him. "She did the serious pun." James cheered, raising both arms in jubilation.

"Welcome to the family, Rosie. Remus owes me ten quid."

"You bet on this?" Rose asked, silently judging him.

"We're in the army" James reminded her. "During hurry up and wait, we bet on everything."

"Including whether or not a team of SAS soldiers could obliterate a Force Delta team" Sirius added, that one has been memorable.

"Is there any question?" Jim wondered, talking over Vernon. "SAS would win every time. Even hungover."

"You had that same bet" James realised, grinning widely. "There was this one time, at the joint Base in Baghdad, when a bunch of regular army blokes from our side and the Americans started having it out. We'd been stuck on hurry up and wait duty for a while, and we needed to let off a bit of steam, so to speak. Anyway, before we knew it, there was a massive fight/argument going on. A couple of Force Delta blokes strutted in, all full of themselves, calling out SAS officers for being so secretive, and our beloved Colonel, old Minnie McGonagall happens to be leaving her tent during their more colorful slurs against the humble SAS officer." James laughed, shaking himself. Sirius too was using his not inconsiderable mental control to not laugh. "Hand to God, I've never seen the Thin Lips of Doom that thin before or since, and we've pulled some pranks in our time."

"Good old Minnie" Sirius smirked, the memory replaying in his head. "They weren't even under her command, but our fearless Colonel tore them off a strip-"

"And a new one while she was at it" James concurred, Jim looking like he was imagining it. "Last I heard, our training officer, Colonel Moody, had had them assigned to a joint taskforce he was working with, they've been remarkably quiet since." Petunia sniffed once, highly disapproving, and engaged them all in wedding planning, so James and Sirius had to stop having fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> Please comment if you are still reading this.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed. Worth continuing?


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